"Zorba's dead," said Spiros. "He had a good life. Now he's dead, the Zorba, the Quinn."

Yes, Zorba the Quinn, a.k.a. Zorba the Greek, a.k.a. actor Anthony Quinn, died at 86 over the weekend, after a long and lusty life.

"That was an actor, a real actor, a star," said proprietor Sam Sianis. "He played everybody, Arabs, Italians, everybody. Remember he was in the movie with Kirk Douglas, and Anthony Quinn's son kills Kirk Douglas' wife? Then Kirk Douglas kills Anthony Quinn's son. Oh, that was a great movie. A Western movie."

Sam understood Spiros' pain, because Spiros was all but claiming Quinn as a cousin. Actually, the only groups that can't claim Quinn as their own are the Swedes.

I asked Sam if he thought some of the new stars, say Brad Pitt, could play the wily thief and gladiator "Barabbas," who was voted free by the mob in Judea, leaving Christ to be crucified.

Sam considered this one carefully for a moment. "Barabbas" is one of his all time favorite movies.

Quinn played Barabbas as a brute, a cunning animal who destroyed the psychotic charioteer Jack Palance in the arena, later to be redeemed through tragedy and faith.

Pitt, who sets the modern Hollywood star standard, is pretty.

Still, Pitt does a good job of modern Hollywood acting, which consists of ironic pouting, wistful pouting, the bored pout and the flashing smile.

So Quinn might have starved today. Or he might have been elected governor of California.

"Brad Pitt?," asked Sam. "The skinny guy? With the blond hair? To be Barabbas? Are you kidding?"

Quinn, the fine actor of Irish-Mexican heritage made a fortune playing Bedouins, Chinese, Italians, Mongolians, Eskimos, large Filipinos, American and East Indians, Hawaiians, Latinos, even a Greek or two.

Reading his obituaries, I found his off-screen life perhaps more fascinating than his movie roles.

The former prizefighter, artist, onetime preacher and political activist was born to a couple who fought alongside Pancho Villa in the Mexican revolution.

Later, he picked fruit in the San Joaquin Valley. Quinn educated himself, forcing himself to read a new book and listen to a new symphony each week.

According to a Los Angeles Times obituary, he was truly lusty, enjoying the favors of many Hollywood beauties, including Carole Lombard, Rita Hayworth, Ingrid Bergman, and her daughter, Pia Lindstrom, "among others."

The Bergman-Lindstrom mother-daughter conquests intrigued many members of the Billy Goat breakfast club, who were extremely envious, even though the daughter wasn't Isabella Rosellini.

"You could tell he was a horny old guy," said one of the Tonys. "Didn't he have a kid a couple years ago?"

The last paragraph of the L.A. Times obit was devoted to a listing of his surviving children, including this classic last line that should go into the obituary hall of fame:

" ... [sons] Alex and Sean with an unnamed German woman, and an unnamed son with an unnamed French woman."

Quinn had this to say to the Tribune last year: "I love, love, women," he said. Even the anonymous ones.

We also tossed around the titles and characters of several great Quinn movies.

The fierce Bedouin leader Auda abu Tayi in "Lawrence of Arabia." The vengeful, tricky Andrea Stavros in "The Guns of Navarone." The broken prizefighter in "Requiem for a Heavyweight." The strongman in "La Strada."

And "Zorba the Greek," the film based on the novel by Nikos Kazantzakis.

The list goes on, including parts in Bob Hope-Bing Crosby road pictures, and something called "Tip-Off Girls" of 1938. The list covers several pages.

But some movies were bad. So bad in fact, that they may achieve cult status.

"Like the one where he marries Bo Derek," said a Tony. "He's impotent, and he's so upset he kills himself, and comes back as a ghost. For the rest of the picture, the Quinn ghost tells her to get naked and enjoy other guys. He didn't want his beautiful young wife to wither and die. He's a ghost. He floats."